Many days, instead of offering ways to peacefully de-escalate situations, or offering mystical rituals for problems caused by others. Problems that would threaten something beautiful with love or peace, would instead would be met with savage rage. Being worshipped as some pagan god of justice by some cults, when reaching his 'adolescence' during this short time he felt alone in his beliefs. Many not understanding why he does what he does, not for justice, not for fun but something unexplainable. The loneliness getting to the adolescent god, caused a desire for companions to assist him, and ultimately travel with him.
Hearing rumors of Orcs terrorizing small settlements, razing the land, killing the men, enslaving the women. It was the biggest target for Yth'Nyll. His mind foreign from humans, yet almost like a caring elder sibling he watched over those who didn't have the capabilities of fighting back. He marched, yet alone he was not. Journeying with him were his three fabric companions, Twitches, Stitches and Pitches, with bones of previous foes grafted into Stitches and Pitches to simulate 'claws and sharp teeth'. The first camp they came across, th'Nyll challenged the village. Knowing that the Orcs, as violent and as despicable as they were, could not pass up a challenge from anyone, especially an unknown foe, the largest captain of the military camp had met the Godling in battle. While th'nyll had traded blows with the Orc captain, the puppets had made their way to the Slave camps, what they saw only reinforced what they- and by extent Yth'nyll- had worried has come to pass.
The women, were dazed, hurt, some of them even hung like livestock. The puppets silently tore the soft spots from the Orcs guarding them, their boar-like heads being stuck onto the fences of the stalls that had been turned into.. The puppets didn't think about what happened before, they only worried about guiding these women from this place. As small as they were, they had Yth'nyll 's will, being almost exact copies of him. As small and as weak as they seemed they would use their size, their speed, and their cleverness to protect these women and guide them to a military outpost of a nearby kingdom. Yth'nyll fueled with a white hot rage pushed himself further into brutalizing the Orc, learning of what had happened through the telepathic bond they shared (He'd later learn that it didn't work across worlds, to his horror.) What the women had been used for. *CRUSH* Everyone knew you didn't get stronger with rage, it made his movements more savage, crushing the Orc captain's balls with the iron club he bellowed a war cry, a promise for brutal vengeance. The orcs cheered and met him with their own war cry, brutal creatures battling each other to prove one stronger than the other. Typical of animals, and of creatures like Yth'nyll and the Orcs, Yth'nyll was a god formed not as some respectable god, but leftovers of what the sleeping god had used to unknowingly create his peers.
Humanity was his family, and humanity, like an abusive family, would push him to protect the weaker people in his family, the weaker members of the human race. This war of the god of fantasies, the war he had intervened in. This madness of violence and glory followed Yth'nyll, sometimes meeting his seldom allies from the human kingdom. They hadn't seen him as a god or as a soldier. He was a monster who had intruded into their war against the green skins.. but a monster on their side, was better than a monster they had to fight. This had lead up to an assault on a capital taken over by the Orcs. Yth'nyll was once again alone, the human commanders had qualms with sending their men into enemy territory, especially an enemy that is stronger than most men, and is known for their cannibalistic tendencies. However a captain who had befriended Yth'Nyll, a man by the name of Othen, a man who had seen Yth'Nyll in the field, he had noticed the being would beat the Orcs, but he was curious why something like him, some stranger who had brutally beaten down the enemies of his people. He wanted to know what made the entity fight for humanity. Othen offered the help of his men, that he and his men had been able to assist so many because of him. Yth'Nyll hadn't answered verbally. It was like he was in a trance. He had to stop the Orcs, he had to protect those dreamers.
The day came when Yth'nyll approached the capital, over ran with Orcs, the screams of pain, and the laughter of Orcs was enraging, sneaking into the capital was one thing, but he saw something he hadn't expect, it wasn't just some Orc tactician who had been ordering them around, but instead, an entity clad in plate mail. The being's face was obsecured but he could see that it was similar to him, but instead of being born a runt godling like him, it was a demi-god native to this planet, this world. There were no words exchanged between the two. This wasn't a battle of good and evil, not a fight for morality, or principle or of belief. It was a fight between a sociopathic guardian and a psychopathic hedonist. Metal rang. Yth'Nyll's iron club had met the war hammer of the armoured demi-god. Neither had made any wound on the other, Yth'Nyll was quick, but the Demi-god was strong, too strong for him. But still he would do it for *them*. Yth'Nyll could smell the arrogance, the feeling of superiority from the being. He just had to out pace him.. right?
*CRACK* something, or rather someone had caught him by his leg with an axe.. The Demi-God looked down at Yth-Nyll, and next to him stood a woman. Yth'Nyll could tell that was his concubine. He wasn't prepared to die, so he pushed himself to his feat to meet the Demi-God, standing, but he was kicked a few feet away by a powerful kick. Bloodied and his mask cracked, he felt that maybe this is how he would die. That he couldn't help anyone, that even if he had saved people, this arrogant bastard and his whore would stomp out the lights of others, ruining their lives with their army of Orcs. But then he heard the pitter patter of small clawed feet. The Demi-God was giving a speech about 'the uselessness of heroics' when a crossbow bolt had greeted the head of the concubine. The Demi-God took out his war hammer, preparing to meet this new foe, but was instead met with three angry voo-doo dolls. Stitches, Pitches and Twitches had come, Yth'nyll was barely concious when he was being fed a healing herb by Twitches the mute puppet. "Sorry we're late, asshole, you left us without saying goodbye!" Pitches quipped, aiming the shears he had taken from an Orc torture chamber into the Demi-God's knees.
Yth'Nyll was unconcious when twitches had used a rune to teleport him away, to somewhere safer. The three puppets, no, the three brothers of Yth'Nyll stood together as they took on the site of the Demi-God. There was only one of him, sure he was stronger, tougher, but them? they were hyper violent puppets with the minds of an eldritch runt god.
To be continued